An Ode to Harriet

And off into the darkness we go.
In the stillness of the night,
The light of the moon before us.
We cut through the waters as
Smooth as perfect timing.

Leaving all the stories and all the loves behind,
Trusting that their time will come, too.
From the noisy cities that drown out Silence
And the dusty roads that steals Vision one grain at a time;
The ones irritated by their scratchy wool garments
And the thousandth trail made by lice in their hair.

A third, a fourth, a seventeenth time of reckoning
Will beckon,
An open pursuit for those who dare to dream,
Who dare to take it.
Their time will come, too.

For now, we go alone.
Hailing to the other silent canoes
That slice their way through the holy waters
Strangers and comrades alike,
Heading towards their freedom.
Heading towards their home.


11.13.24

For Us

My heart knew what it needed..
Or, at least it thought it did.

It was told what was needed
And did fine to dwell on those answers
Given by the trusted around me
The voice of the Accuser
And the mind that had "figured it out."

You were there, too, slowly breaking in
Like soft rays of sunshine filtering through
The mess of bombardments and half-truths,
With the soft song of love that only
Intimacy can sing
And the knowing only a Creator can bring.

It would be a long journey back home..
But You were always in it.
You were always in it for me.
You were always in it for us.


10.11.23

Hope

Hope, which once was defined by promises diluted by fantasy, becomes a new term to me, because the old way doesn’t cut it anymore.


 

Being a Christian, “a little Christ,” becomes more offensive when the glories that are available through Jesus comes hand-in-hand with the suffering of picking up my cross. But to be identified with anything less than that only leads to true suffering and death. 
Any core identity in me that takes charge over my identity in Christ is simply a greater separation from the Father. The One who gives life and meaning to every title. Who gives purpose to every position on this earth.
 Without finding my identity in Him first, all other identities will fail me and never fulfill me. He is the key ingredient that runs through all of life. The baking soda to chocolate chip cookies that will cause them to fall at the end if forgotten.

 

Hope is the Way of Jesus Christ.

He was confident the Father would give Him what He was promised, even in the midst of ridicule, abandonment, temptations and crucifixion. That his life wasn’t in vain, nor all that he suffered. That, by all earthly matters - dead is done - but his trust was in the Father raising him, as He said He would.


 

Jesus’ hope was in the Father. 

His greatest reward was to be with Him at His right hand. His final hope was in nothing this world could provide, or the promises awaiting him. It was intimacy with the Father and knowing Him - His goodness, His faithfulness, His beauty, His eternity. Knowing and believing these things. 

 

His hope was in the Father - held up by a firm belief that God would be always who He said He is, for He cannot lie or fail. 

Held up by his intimate knowing that He is the greatest pleasure of all.

 

 

5.2.23

Corroded Walls

I often find myself slowly picking through a room in my heart.  The room is rotten, dirty, smelly and the walls are corroded and there is broken glass all over the floor.  Some of the brokenness is caused by me and some have been vandalized by an uncaring enemy.

Jesus told me the other night to be patient with Him.  When I'm in these room, I find that impatience with myself and impatience coming from other people makes me direct a full blown attack of impatience onto Jesus.

Jesus told me to be patient with Him.  He gets me.  He knows me.  And all He wants is for me to look into His eyes and have faith that He knows the exact and perfect timing for everything...for all the things in my life that I'm waiting and striving for.  He wants me to tell Him that I believe He orchestrates everything in my life at a specific time and introduces everything to me in the best way...tailor made for me.

I do.

Weirdly Gone

This past Thursday night, I arrived home, expecting to plug my phone charger into my phone and chat with a friend.  Instead, I found a ransacked home with a broken window and a decent amount of cash, my laptop, some vintage jewelry and my roommate's professional camera & equipment gone.  Disappeared.

I called my roommate and she came home from school, hysterically saying we needed to call the police.  They came, we joked, they fingerprinted, we lamented over the fact that this was the 6th home burglary in a two block radius in the past week.

The only word that continued to accurately describe my emotions over the following 36 hours was "weird".  It's weird accepting the fact that two men that I've never seen or met have been in my room and have sorted through my things in my nightstand - a place that only two or three people in the entire world have seen.  It's weird thinking that my laptop, the thing that has the past three years of my music, papers, pictures - a compilation of my life - is gone.  Not to be retrieved but only replaced by an empty, yet welcoming, OS in a computer body that is indefinitely out of my reach.  It's weird finding out how I react to a terrible situation -- slowly, mostly without hysterics, numbly, randomly spurting out confused tears.

Let's be real.  All of the doors that I thought once very warm and inviting now seem to be closed against my persistent knocks.  Who I thought I was going to be and what I thought I was going to do is completely different than who I am right now in this moment.  And something like this, a robbery of the physical and of innocence, is the thing making me stop and realize the truth.

If you want to hide your money well, put it in a designated wastebasket and cover it with a thin layer of not disgusting trash.  Be sure to never empty this specific wastebasket and the robber will never waste his time looking there.

Don't live out of fear.  Live out of Love.  Preaching to the choir, live from Hope.  It's the safest place to be.






*I am praying for an empty, yet welcoming, Lion OS.

Things Every Customer Should Know

Working at a coffeehouse, I often find myself dealing with people - both in taking their lunch/coffee order and at the cash register. A few months of this and I realize that EVERYBODY should be forced to work customer service at some point in their life so they can, in turn, learn how to be good customers in the future. 

For those of you who need it, I have made a list of what NOT TO DO when you are a customer.
*(These are situational to a restaurant but should still be applicable in most situations.)

1.  Do not complain about the price of your order when the large menu with all of the prices are directly in front of you, especially when what you have ordered has been prepared and is sitting there, waiting for you to pay.

2.  Do not complain about the price of your order to the cashier - they are powerless to do anything about it.

3.  Do not hold up the line, especially when the line is out the door, because you can't make up your mind.  Yes, you live in America and there is an abundance of delicious choices all around you, but I promise that your life will not depend on whether you get the blueberry scone or the chocolate scone.

4.  Do not comment on how full the tip jar is to the cashier unless you plan on adding money to it directly following the comment.  There are very few other things that you can say to make the cashier feel less awkward.

5.  Do not ask for "regular" bread, 1% milk, or complain that there is no meat on a BLT.

6.  Do not make the employee have to say, "Ma'am" with increasing volume 5 times in a row to get your attention.  If with friends, keep the conversation light and be conscious and aware of the person trying to get you what you want.

7.  My personal favorite:  Do not treat the employee like a robot.  When asked how you are doing, actually think before you give an automated response and NEVER should you ignore the question and just start ordering. 

We are people, too.

I am not bitter, nor taking my anger out on my blog, as it may come across that way.  Just making a comical list with a serious edge to it.  Take it or leave it, this is my experience.

Together

I was playing an impromptu Devotional set in the Hope City Prayer Room the other day.  I was an hour and fifty minutes into a set that was only supposed to be an hour and thirty minutes and was desperately trying to finish strong.  One thing I have caught onto - when you don't know what to sing, sing about Jesus. Ha.

One thing led to another and I soon started singing out of Song of Solomon 2:8 - "Listen! My Lover! Look! Here He comes, leaping across the mountains, bounding over the hills."  I've often just focused on this..the part where it says how Jesus has defeated all of my mountains and hills and is running towards me to set me free and give me life. 

But because of the season that I am right now, I need a little bit more than that.  I don't want Him to come and just stay with me where I am at.  It's beautiful for awhile, but I know in my spirit that there has to be something more.

I think that Jesus came bounding over the mountains to show more than just His strength and capabilities, but to hold out His hand and wait for me to accept His invitation -  an invitation to  take His hand and let Him lead me back over my hills, to help me conquer my mountains of pride, selfishness, immaturity, fear, and weakness. I'm finding that this Christian walk is not Jesus flying in, swooping low, snatching me from the Enemy and soaring away with me into eternal bliss. This is a journey that we take together that involves much walking, a few leaps, and a lot of tortuously crawling over the rough terrain of my humanity.

But that is what makes everything beautiful, isn't it?  Knowing that the King of Glory is willing to drag Himself through the mud - not only to help me fight for my freedom from my bondage - but to just be with me. A Love like this is so rare..and beautiful.  Complete freedom in Him is the joy set before me, being with Him in the journey is the joy with me right now.

I wrote a little song about it..

You saw me there in my brokeness
You saw me there in my weakness
You saw me there in my darkness
And You said, "This one is Mine"

You saw me there in my chaos
You saw me there in my confusion
You saw me there in my immaturities
And You said, "This one is Mine"

And I saw You come running towards me
With eyes of joy unspeakable
I saw You come running towards me
With a heart of love unquenchable

Now we're leaping over my mountains
And we're running over my hills
Now we're breaking down my walls
Conquering this life, together

We're in this together
What an adventure


And here is my first audio clip recording on the internet. Hehe..


Sigh. I never want to leave Him.